


Fictober 2019 - Snippets

by MimikoFlamemaker



Series: Of Monsters and Men [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fictober, Fictober 2019, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2020-11-27 19:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20953796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimikoFlamemaker/pseuds/MimikoFlamemaker
Summary: The collection of snippets written during Fictober 2019. Each one is individually tagged if necessary. Overall tags might be added as well, if other characters/settings will make an appearance.





	1. Days 1-5

**Author's Note:**

> This Fictober I'm writing about Neve, both her regular self from "Of Mosters and Men" series and the one I played during the larp ;)

** 1. ** ** “It will be fun, trust me.”  
**

**(Regular Neve, no warnings apply)**

Neve gave herself another once over in the dusty mirror, admiring the neckline of the dark green dress she had been given for the occasion. It felt like ages since the last time she wore something this pretty and she sincerely hoped that the garment would survive till the end of their evening outing.

Her eyes slid towards the other end of the room where Lambert sat on the bed, looking decidedly less impressed with his outfit.

‘Please save that expression for the nobles we’ll be meeting today’ she said, turning to face him. ‘If you look at them like this they might be less inclined to express how displeased they are with our presence. And you do look fine in that doublet’ the elleth added with a smirk, brushing her hair over her shoulder, revealing one pointed ear with and emerald earring dangling from it.

‘It’s fucking stiff. And it pinches…’ the witcher deadpanned, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably.

‘I can pinch your ass if that will make you feel better’ Neve snapped, walking over to the table were her daggers were laid out. ‘At least you are not wearing a corset’ she picked one of the knives up and bent to hide it under the layers of silk hanging around her hips.

She could feel his eyes following her movements.

‘This shirt will tear, if I move to fast…’

‘It most certainly will not’ she hid another knife. ‘These clothes are way sturdier than you might think.’

‘Speaking from experience?’ this time he wasn’t even being subtle about it, staring right at her exposed cleavage.

‘It is not my first time attending such an event for business, if this is what you are asking for.’

Out of the corner of her eye she could see him rolling his eyes.

‘Do tell.’

‘We don’t have enough time’ Neve grinned as she hid the last dagger. ‘Or beer for that matter. We need to leave soon, if we don’t want to offend the count.’

‘If he wants to have the job done he’d better not be fucking offended…’

‘Lambert, I am sure that you’ve already heard this, but it’s how the world fucking is. Nobles get offended by the slightest shit. And we are trying not to piss them off to much…’

‘Your dirty mouth don’t exactly fit with that pretty dress. And this guy could do with regular mercenaries...’

The elleth snorted, resting her hands against her hips.

‘We are still not sure about that, remember? Besides, _you_ don’t mean to tell me that you would rather go roll in the mud while hunting drowners or some shit.... The count also pays considerably more than a regular drowner contract…’

‘You don’t have to remind me’ Lambert pushed himself off the bed with ease that belied his complaining about the outfit. ‘Shall we? I’d rather be done with this shit already.’

‘It will be fun, trust me.’

Lambert scoffed and was opening his mouth for another scathing remark, but Neve chose this moment to push the door open and hook her arm through his elbow, effectively derailing his thoughts.

‘_Really?_’

‘Really. We’ll be introduced together. We might as well look the part.’

‘Do I get the chance to round you into some alcove if we are to look the part?’

The elleth rolled her eyes.

‘You may try; just remember that I do have plenty of sharp objects hidden on my person…’

‘Yeah, that… Where do you keep them anyway?’

** 2.“Just follow me, I know the area.” **

**(Witcher School (larp) Neve, mention of infertility)**

The tutors at Kaer Tiele talked with them extensively about how their bodies will adapt and change as they prepare for and during the Trials themselves. Often without sparing them all the gory details of a failed transformation.

The girl sleeping next to her wept when her moonblood slowed down to a trickle and then did not come at all. Neve felt maybe a little disappointment. She would not dare to bring a child into the world that had shown her its ugliest face. To be quite honest, she was not even sure if she could – she tried plenty of times since the day she left the burning remains of her village behind and nothing ever came of it.

Considering that the possibility was now forever outside of her reach, it was better not to think about it too much.

There were other things too. She could work out longer without getting tired. The bruises faded quicker, though the fresh ones made that hard to notice at first. But the biggest changes came after the Trial of Grasses. She could see further and sharper than she ever tough possible. The sun no longer blinded her, and she could move in the dark forest with only the moon and the starts for guidance where she previously clung to a torch or her campfire. The first time she heard a fox sneaking through the undergrowth, it was so loud she mistook it for an approaching danger. And when she once given into the morbid curiosity and nicked her palm, within three days she couldn’t see where the cut was.

Discovering how much sharper her senses were now took up the better part of her first month on the path. Maybe she should have spent that time at Kaer Tiele and get used to it, but after what had transpired at the school she couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Most of her fellow adepts now wished to kill elves as much as monsters and she would not stand for that.

She would never do that – she owed them too much. The king’s anger meant shit to her. And Hatzel deserved every stab that reached his wretched, little heart.

She’d only hoped that she would not have to stand against any of her fellow witchers to defend that belief of hers.

This time, when she heard someone approach, she at least did not flinch, and her hand remained planted against her belt. To be honest, she expected the confrontation since the moment when she realized that she was being observed.

‘I’m alone’ she cringed at her own voice. It’s been a while since she last used elder speech and she was never particularly skilled with it. ‘I do not wish to fight you.’

She could swear, she could hear a bowstring creaking somewhere above her head.

‘Well maybe we do’ came the reply and when she glanced in the direction of the voice, she could now see a silhouette hidden behind the bushes not even five feet away from her.

‘Humans are not welcome in these forests.’

‘Not all humans, my friend’ Neve allowed herself a smile, before the sudden realization wiped it off. ‘And I am no longer one.’

‘Lower your weapons; I know her.’

Now that was a surprise. It felt like ages have passed since the last time she heard that voice. She thought it was one of those things she had left in the past. And she was glad that it wasn’t true.

‘I didn’t think I would see you again, Gallar’ she said, turning towards the light rustle of approaching footsteps. ‘I’m glad to see you alive.’

He looked surprisingly well. Nothing like wounded, feverish ellon that told her about the torment Chiarro had endured at the hands of the Blue Stripes.

‘You look different’ she said with a smile as they slowly approached each other.

‘Says the woman looking at me with a pair of yellow eyes and wearing a sword across her back now’ he replied but clapped her on the shoulder with a smile.

Then his fingers slid towards the wolf’s head hanging against her breast.

‘We thought you were dead like the others…’

‘Not quite’ she squeezed his hand briefly. ‘Not yet. And I do plan on enjoying this new life of mine for a long while.’

‘And the first thing you do is coming back to the places from your old one?’

‘I had good reasons…’ Neve replied, turning serious. ‘Not sure how fast the rumors travel around here, but I witnessed some things that I think you should know about… And who’s better to tell you than someone you used to trust?’

‘You don’t give yourself enough credit’ Gallar replied. ‘I won’t be the only one happy to hear from you. Just follow me… I know the area.’

‘You forget that it’s not my first time travelling these forests.’

‘I remember everything’ the ellon scoffed in mock offence. ‘But the new recruits don’t know you, and I would hate for your witcher career to be cut short by a stray arrow.

Neve glanced towards the branches hanging above their heads.

‘Itchy fingers?’ she smirked. ‘Fine, lead the way then. Just let me grab my horse first.’

** 3.“Now? Now you listen to me?” **

**(Regular Neve, no warnings apply)**

Neve watched as the body slid down the wall and slumped into the mud, leaving a wet smudge over the rough stones. It was supposed to be a simple, in and out, reconnaissance, but then of course everything just had to turn to shit. At least this guard died quickly and quietly, giving them a moment to think about their next step.

She wiped her dagger against her opponent’s trousers, before she glanced at Alven, standing maybe five paces away from her.

Yes, she was still tempted to shove the knife into his gut. Maybe if he’d allowed her to talk instead of trying to kick their way out then maybe they wouldn’t be in such a deep mess right now.

Alven was completely unbothered by the glare she was levelling him with. He even had the audacity to grin at her as he slid his knife into his boot.

‘That was quick. What’s next?’

It took Neve a moment to wrestle her slack jaw back into obedience.

‘Now?’ she hissed, taking a step towards him. ‘Now you are going to listen to me?’

She wanted to throttle him. Then again, she knew him for nearly twenty years now. One would think it was enough time to get used to his antics.

Sometimes she wondered, which deity she had offended to have her patience so endlessly tested.

Alven made his way over to her, leaning in close enough that she felt his breath against her cheek.

‘Of course. It’s always worth it’ he closed the distance completely and pressed a quick kiss against her cheek, before she could pull herself away. ‘I lost count of all the times when listening to you had saved my hide.’

‘It is a wonder how did you manage to survive on your own before you’ve met me’ Neve rolled her eyes at him, but she could barely keep the smile off her face.

‘I have no idea’ he muttered into her ear. ‘And I have no plans of ever trying that out again.’

** 4.“I know you didn’t ask for this.” **

**(Witcher School Larp Neve, fairly graphic description of injury)**

The fire outside of the caves has died down to barely a few, glowing embers, but Neve didn’t bother with throwing more wood into it, simply staring at the sparkles rising into the air. It must have grown pretty late at this point, because, except for the single guard that sometimes crossed her line of sight, everybody else already headed back inside, seeking to get some sleep.

She didn’t think, she would risk lying down in some crowded corner. She didn’t think she was going to be sick, but her stomach was still roiling after knocking back a swallow earlier this evening. Her left forearm was expertly bandaged from her wrist up to her elbow and did not even hurt anymore, but she could agree that the deep gash that left her skin hanging loosely from her arm had been quite a gruesome sight.

She would have quite a scar to brag about had it not been so carefully stitched. She could feel the pull of the string at the slightest move of her wrist. Not that she particularly cared for boasting such an extensive scars.

But she would have to look for a new pair of vambraces when she’d get the chance, since her left one was torn to pieces by that damn fleder.

Fleder. Her first, _serious_ kill. And a complete surprise. She was fully planning on spending the first few months on the path doing simple jobs, before searching for something more challenging. As much as she hated hunting ghouls and drowners they were less likely to rip her to shreds.

But she was glad that she went for the patrol with Gallar and few other elves. If she didn’t, they might have never made it back. And when the creature jumped at them from one of the trees, she didn’t really think about it before grabbing her sword and placing herself in its path.

It was an ugly creature, a bit similar to an overgrown bat, but almost entirely bald, with a pasty body and small beady eyes. But it did have a huge maw filled with rows of knife-like teeth and long, sharp claws on all four of its legs.

She didn’t remember much of the fight. It was fast, trying to jump on her and pin her to the tree or to the ground so she dodged a lot, jumping out of the way and attacking it from behind. Igni also seemed to do the thing of keeping it away. At some point she saw Gallar nocking an arrow, obviously intending to help her and yelled at him to stay away. She didn’t want the fleder to take interest in the elves; she wasn’t sure if she would be able to keep them safe if it did.

Then the vampire claws were tearing through her vambrace and clothing beneath it, ripping her forearm open.

Next thing she knew was herself standing over the twitching body of the fleder, foul blood sprayed across her face, the searing pain slowly spreading up her arm. She cut its head off to make sure that it was truly dead, before she allowed Gallar to wrap a strip of cloth around the wound.

The soft rustle of the steps pulled her back to the present, just before a heavy, warm blanket was dropped onto her shoulders. Gallar sat on the log next to her moments later.

‘Thank you’ she said wrapping the blanket around her shoulders properly. ‘But the weather is not all that bad…’

‘You are sitting out here wearing only a shirt’ he offered her a half-hearted smile. ‘I’m not quite sure if witchers can fall ill from a little cold, but I certainly feel the chills just by looking at you.’

Gallar rarely appeared tense or nervous, so his fidgeting was all the more obvious now. When she looked at his hands to see what he was playing with, Neve was more than a little surprised when she saw a leather pouch he held.

And then came the irritation.

‘I know you didn’t ask for this’ the ellon started, clearly reading her expression. ‘But it’s the least we could offer you for your help today…’

‘You are allowing me to stay with you’ she interrupted him. The healer made sure that I won’t end up with a potentially debilitating scar at the very beginning of practising my trade. I am not going to take any money from you, when I know how much you need it…’

‘You will always be welcome here. And you mean to tell me that you won’t? You still need food and shelter for yourself and your horse. So stop insulting both of us and take the payment like a proper witcher would. Whatever is in that purse is not going to make any difference to us anyway.’

Neve muttered something under her breath, but extended her hand towards him. Gallar was glancing at her the entire time, looking smug.

‘Thank you’ she said at length, causing his smirk to split into a grin.

‘It’s good to see that the mutations improved your manners as well as reflexes…’

He laughed when she shoved him off the log.

** 5.“I might just kiss you.” **

**(Regular Neve, no warnings apply)**

The inn was loud and much more crowded than usual. Except for the regular patrons and her company it was full of merchants and sailors that docked to the Novigrad’s shores today. Not everyone could fit into the “Golden Sturgeon” and some people simply preferred smaller and less know establishments. Mohar chose the “Three Quails” just for this reason – it was popular enough among the locals to supply them with fresh gossip, but still nondescript enough to avoid running into the authorities.

Neve leaned against the counter, glancing at the innkeeper pouring them another round, while most of her attention was on the room. So many different people in one place always sparked her curiosity… and was often a recipe for trouble.

The innkeeper cleared his throat and put the first tankards in front of her. She grabbed a handful of coins from her pouch and tossed them into his hand.

When she turned around, she came face to face with a man. He was dressed in fine clothes, though they were obviously worn for a while. He was wobbling and leering at her. She had to lean away to avoid spilling the beer all over his doublet.

‘Maybe I could help you with that?’ he asked. She could smell the wine on his breath and barely stopped herself from cringing.

‘No thank you’ she replied, taking a step to the side. ‘I am not alone you see…’

The merchant smiled, undeterred.

‘You could always ditch your current company…’ he reached out and ran his hand along her forearm. ‘And find a better one…’

Neve wondered briefly which part of her demeanor suggested that she was interested at all. Maybe he simply had a thing for elves.

Then again, he reeked of so much alcohol she was getting drunk by simply standing next to him.

She slowly placed the tankards o the counter; there was no point in wasting perfectly fine beer.

‘I must decline’ she turned back towards him and smiled politely. ‘Please leave. I don’t want any trouble…’

For him mostly.

The merchant grinned.

‘I can show you plenty of trouble…’

He trailed off when someone clapped him on the shoulder.

‘I believe that this lady said she’s is not interested’ Alven said calmly. ‘So, do us both a favor and leave, before they will have to carry you out.’

The merchant spun around to face him and for a split second, Neve thought that he will put up a fight, but he deflated just as quickly. She wasn’t surprised.

Alven rested his other hand over the dagger hanging at his hip and smiled. The merchant blanched and left quickly, almost tripping over his own feet.

‘I had him’ Neve muttered as Alven took the vacated spot in front of her.

‘I know’ his expression softened. ‘But you would have thrown this poor sod over the counter and then our gracious host would have to throw us out.’

‘And we wouldn’t want that’ the elleth smirked. ‘I think I should thank you for saving me’ she leaned towards him slightly.

‘At your service’ Alven reached and wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger. ‘Are you going to pay for my drinks?’

‘I was thinking about something else’ Neve leaned even closer until their noses almost touched. ‘But I might just kiss you now.’

And she did, before he could respond. She felt him smiling against her lips, his hand snaking towards the back of her head to press her closer.

‘Get the room you two!’ Borgh bellowed from their table in the far corner. ‘Where is the beer?!’

‘Or no!’ Oddo yelled from beside him. ‘I want to watch!’

‘Yeah, because finding a willing woman is beyond you…’ Neve glared at him before smiling slyly. ‘Unless you pay them.’

Oddo glared at her, ignored among the raucous laughter of the others.


	2. Days 6-10

  1. ** “Yes, I’m aware. Your point?”**

**(Witcher School (larp) Neve, no warnings apply)**

Neve could feel the heat coming off of her in waves. She tried to not pay too much attention to that, or to the small clouds of steam that escaped her with every breath she took. She fixed her stance again, moving her feet further apart, before she launched into another series of cuts and blocks.

It was difficult to practice when there was no one at the receiving end of her blows. She had no idea how the older witchers could do it and make it look absolutely effortless.

She felt like she was constantly one step away from tripping over her own feet.

The morning was surprisingly cold for this time of the year, though she guessed it was to be expected this high up in the Mahakam Mountains. When she made her way to the clearing earlier, the grass was crunching beneath her feet, held by the thin layer of frost. Now that the sun was a little higher on the sky the cold was getting a bit more bearable, unlike the slippery ground beneath her feet.

At least it was a good way to practice her balance. She would need this, considering she had just damned herself to the life of hunting in places that will be much worse than this.

Her stitches tingled when she changed her grip on her sword.

Then she heard a rustle behind her and spun towards the sound.

‘You are leaving your left too open.’

Neve lowered her weapon and huffed.

‘Yes, I’m aware. Your point?’

Gallar grinned and approached her, hand resting against the hilt of his sword.

‘This is why you got wounded in the first place. Your new reflexes were the only thing that saved you from being gutted. Now if you don’t stop this, you will rip your stitches again and Aileth will not be pleased.’

‘The wound is almost healed. One ripped stitch is not going to change that…’

‘Are you going to look her in the eye and say the same thing?’

He apparently got his kicks out of ribbing her like that. Neve sighed and shook her head. It didn’t even bother her that much. If anything, it was a nice reminder of a simpler time.

‘How long were you watching me?’

‘Long enough to notice that you are more familiar with a sword now. But you could still use some practice…’

‘You don’t have to tell me that…’

‘Are you sure they did not let you out of the school too soon?’

Neve grimaced, not quite looking him in the eye.

‘Maybe… But I couldn’t stay there and I will have to deal with it somehow.’

‘Or you could find a sparring partner.’

‘Meaning you?’

The ellon shrugged.

‘Soon enough the snows will come and we will be confined to this valley anyway. You might as well stay. Use this time to train and hunt for local monsters… It will be much easier to pick out humans when we won’t be afraid of some creature attacking us from behind… And you are not as clumsy as you used to be…’

Neve stared.

‘Are you asking me to stay?’

‘It wouldn’t be much different than when you were living here before… But maybe you will be more useful now.’

Neve cursed under her breath.

‘Do you want to spar or no?’

‘I thought you would never ask… And your accent is still awful.’

Instead of responding she pointed her sword at his face.

  1. **“No, and that’s final.”**

**(Witcher School (larp) Neve, no warnings apply)**

Neve did her best to keep her eyes away from the door, but she couldn’t wait to be out of the house and as far away from the village as possible.

She knew it was supposed to be part of her job – approaching villages and going into cities, searching for measly paid contracts that will hopefully allow her to keep herself and her horse fed. She was warned that the people she would meet on the path would often resent her or fear her and that it might lead to many tense situations she would have to work herself out of.

So far though, she supposed she could consider herself lucky. She purposefully travelled to places where she could find easy work like nekkers or drowners even if such contracts left her purse empty much faster than she would have liked. But this way, she had avoided coming across something that could easily kill her and never had to decline a job which was a habit she acquired back when she was posing as a merchant.

If the people will get the word that you are trustworthy, working with them will get easier. Not that she expected them to trust her faster that they were willing to trust a woman, travelling alone through the wilderness. She couldn’t remember his many times she was dubbed a witch. Or worse.

She had no doubt that being a witcher will only make the matters worse.

But so far, she was pretty pleased with her conduct and whatever came out of it.

Until today.

When she approached the village there was nothing unusual about it. A few houses tucked between some fields, a pond and a dark wall of the forest a little further, where the gentle hills turned steeper. Dogs, cats, chickens and even some goats wandered around, unbothered by the running kids or approaching horse. She wasn’t even sure if there would be any work for her here, but she went between the buildings regardless.

Then she came into what could only be described as a village’s main square and the first thing she spotted were Temerian Lillies. And several horses tied to fences and low branches.

She had a split second to think about turning about and leaving the place, when the door to one of the houses opened and the solider poke his head out.

And this is how she ended in the company of captain Hugo Bolla and his men. Who, much to her dismay, had a job for her.

One that made her want to smash his face against the table, but she had somehow managed to listen to his blabbering with a fairly neutral expression.

‘I don’t get it. I’m offering you a decent amount of money and I’m certain that witchers can’t complain about the excess of it.’

‘We can’t’ Neve agreed. ‘But it’s not about the money. You mistake me for something I am not, captain.’

‘Oh? And why is that?’

‘Because witchers are made to kill monsters. Mindless creatures that crawl out from the dark and kill innocent people…’

‘See? There is little difference between what you described and those damn elves!’

‘But there is captain… Because no matter how you look at it, they can hardly be described as _mindless_.’

She could see a brief flash of irritation in his eyes.

‘It is still a no, then?’

‘There are rules I have to follow. And those rules forbid me from killing creatures that could be otherwise reasoned with… So yes, it is a _no_. And that’s final. Unless the village elderman has a problem with drowners or other creatures that I can help him solve.’

For a moment she thought that captain Bolla will continue to argue with her, so when his expression changed from annoyance to disgust, all she felt was relieved.

She apparently travelled faster than rumours did. Or someone chose to keep the events from Kaer Tiiele securely under wraps for now.

She stood up at the same time he did.

‘That won’t be necessary’ he said courtly. ‘We had this area under control, and we can handle anything.’

‘Of course,’ she did her best not to sneer. ‘I will go some place else. And I will make sure not to interfere with the business of temerian army.’

‘That would be much appreciated’ he dismissed her with a nod.

> ‘I wouldn’t think about it.’

Neve managed a shallow bow, before she turned back and returned to her horse.

The captain didn’t have to know that she was planning to do just that.

  1. **“Can you stay?”**

**(Regular Neve, no warnings apply)**

The rain was hammering against the roof of the inn. If she would bother to take a look outside of the window, Neve would see the streets of Oxenfurt, turning into the rivers of mud in the downpour.

Instead the elleth moved their shoes closer to the fire and then checked on her jacket hanging from the back of the chair. They were both completely soaked through by the time they made it to the inn and it was only because the innkeeper knew them well that he had managed to find them a room.

She was fairly certain that it was one of his own and she was all that much more grateful for it. Elves rarely could expect similar kindness from people these days. Someone else would have probably kicked them out back onto the street.

She put some more wood into the fire and ran her hands through her hair, trying to detangle the wet mess, when the creak of the bed frame pulled her attention back to her companion.

‘If you move another inch I will bind you to the bed.’

A breathy laugh was her first response, before it descended into a fit of coughing. Neve pushed herself to her feet and walked over to Alven, who was watching her with a smirk, despite the glassy look in his eyes and the thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

‘Normally I would think about it as an invitation’ he made a move to sit up, but Neve’s hand was on his shoulder in the next instant, pressing him down.

‘I said no moving’ she said gently. ‘I don’t want you to start bleeding all over Albart’s sheets… again.’

‘Getting stabbed in the gut will have that effect on you…’

‘That’s why not getting stabbed is preferable. Then we would’ve only had the fever to deal with.’

Alven grimaced.

‘Why are you fine anyway? You were as soaked as me all the time…’

Neve placed her hand against his unnaturally warm cheek and smiled.

‘You are wounded, so it’s obvious you would be more prone to fall ill in such a shitty weather. Besides, I survived a smallpox outbreak when I was still an apprentice in the Melitele temple. I would say that a simple cold is not going to harm me.’

‘Lucky you…’

‘Remind me of that later and I will tell you about how I was burying the other less fortunate girls… but you should try to rest now. You are not going anywhere anytime soon.’

‘And what about you?’

‘I will go downstairs and try to whisk away something to eat… Maybe I will go check on the horses. The stables were as crowded as the inn and I want to make sure…’

‘Can you stay?’

Neve’s smile softened at that, before she leaned down and placed a quick kiss against Alven’s sweaty temple.

‘Unfortunately we both need food, but I think I can pass on the horses tonight… Albart’s boy seemed like a lad who knows what he is doing…’

‘Good’ Alven breathed letting his eyes fall shut. ‘Just don’t take too long…’

‘Just go to sleep and you won’t even notice me gone’ with the last pat onto his shoulder, Neve turned on her heel and quietly left the room.

  1. **“There is a certain taste to it.”**

**(Regular Neve, no warnings apply)**

Neve pressed her lips against the rim of her tankard and tried to keep her expression straight as she watched Geralt chew at the piece of meat they had been served for a supper. She spat her own back out almost instantly, before feeding it to the dog, lurking beneath the table.

Meanwhile, the witcher still chewed, seemingly unbothered. Neve had no idea whether she should be impressed by the feat or grossed out.

It certainly begged the question, what else he was capable of eating. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer.

Geralt finally managed to swallow and immediately reached for his beer to wash the meat down.

‘There is a certain taste to it…’

She failed to keep her composure then and snorted into her beer.

A few patrons turned to glare at them, but Geralt’s gaze was enough to keep the villagers from speaking up.

‘Well if you mean, that it tastes like a huge mistake, then I am willing to agree. We shouldn’t have come here.’

‘And pass on the chance of a proper meal?’

‘Define proper’ the elleth grimaced. ‘Because the next time we will have a choice between some shady inn and hunting, I will go get us dinner myself…’

‘Haven’t you said the opposite… yesterday?’

Neve faked a laugh. Geralt simply watched her, unbothered.

‘Yesterday, I didn’t know that an inn can stoop so low… I can understand that the current… situation in Velen can be bad for business, but it doesn’t mean that they have to serve us food that tastes like an overcooked cat.’

Geralt blinked.

‘I had no idea you know how a cat tastes.’

Neve almost choked on her beer, but the surprise was short lived.

‘You mean to tell me that you don’t?’

‘I am of the opinion, that anything can be eaten if you are desperate enough’ the witcher took a sip of his beer. ‘But I can’t say that I was ever desperate enough to try out cats…’

Well, that at least answered a part of her question.

‘I like jesting as much as anyone, but we were supposed to talk about awful food… and I do like cats.’

‘If we keep doing it, the innkeeper will throw us out’ Geralt remarked, glancing into the pitcher standing between them. With a sigh, he pulled himself to his feet. ‘And he won’t give us anymore beer. I’m sure you wouldn’t want any of that.’

‘No, I wouldn’t’ Neve replied with a grin. ‘While I don’t really mind eating a questionably roasted rabbit, I’d rather avoid sleeping in that mud as often as I can. Especially, since I know now, what exactly can crawl out of that mud…’

‘We can discuss merits of sleeping outside if you want…’

‘With pleasure, but I’d rather wait with that for more beer…’

She could have sworn that Geralt has smirked, before he turned around and made his way to the counter.

  1. ** “Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.”**

**(Witcher School (larp) Neve, no warnings apply)**

Neve laid flat on the ground, face pressed against the layer of wet leaves. She squeezed herself beneath some bushes, looking for cover and hoped that her dash for safety went unnoticed.

About twenty yards away, several men crowded the narrow path winding between the trees.

The first men she came across since the village went up in flames.

And they were soldiers too. Armed to the teeth, just like those she saw then.

The man at the head of the column, studied a map, snapping at two others behind him, when they tried to explain him something. She didn’t have to think too hard to understand what they were looking for.

For several moments she observed them, listening to her heart pounding in her chest.

It could be her chance. She could have approached them, lie about being lost and maybe they would have brought her back to the nearest city.

Or they could be just like the soldier that caught her in the hut.

And there was a camp of completely unaware, mostly wounded elves nearby. They didn’t stand the chance if the soldiers would find them, even if she knew that they would fight to their last.

She didn’t want to see another slaughter.

She owed at least this much for saving her hide and keeping her from starving all those weeks.

Very slowly, trying her hardest to remain undetected, Neve crawled backwards, until she was sure that she was hidden by the dense undergrowth.

And then she ran.

She tripped over a hidden root, and braced herself against the tree, scraping her palms. It was better then making noise. She didn’t want to lead the soldiers into the camp with her floundering.

She was glad that the first person she saw in the camp was Chiarro, though after she almost barrelled into him, the others were quickly drawn to the commotion.

‘What happened beanna?’ the ellon asked griping her shoulder to steady her.

‘We need to move camps. Quickly…’ she breathed out, but it seemed to only deepen his confusion.

‘You would have to be a little more specific than that’ Gallar drawled, coming to stand beside Chiarro.

Neve grimaced. She knew the ellon didn’t like her, but it was not the time to make things difficult.

‘Listen, I can’t explain it right now, so you will have to trust me…’

She didn’t really expect to have a dagger pressed against her neck for her efforts.

‘Trust is earned, not given’ Gallar spat, ignoring Chiarro who tried to pull him away. ‘Not to the likes of you…’

Neve didn’t flinch, not even when she felt the blade biting into her skin. She lost everything she could over the last few weeks.

Her life would be just another thing on the list.

‘Fine’ she sneered, glaring at him. ‘Then you are welcome to sit here and wait until the soldiers I saw in the forest will figure out how to use a map… I’m sure you will survive through another massacre…’

She could see a brief flash of surprise in Gallar’s eyes before he withdrew the knife.

‘What soldiers?’ Chiarro asked. ‘Where?’

‘Maybe a mile away from here on the path’ she shrugged. ‘At least forty men, fully armed. They can be there soon and I don’t think that you stand a chance against them as you are’ she finished, glancing at the several elves sitting around the fire.

Anything to avoid Chiarro’s piercing gaze.

‘And you are telling us this why?’

She lifted her eyes to meet his.

‘They didn’t pull me out of a burning village. You did. It’s the least I could do…’

The ellon tilted his head to the side, apprising her.

‘They could lead you back to your people.’

‘My people were burned and slaughtered’ she could feel the heat rising into her cheeks, but she couldn’t avert her gaze. ‘I’d rather take my chances with you!’

Chiarro smiled though his gaze remained inquisitive.

‘So be it’ he finally said, before turning to the other elves. ‘Pack up the camp. We are leaving…’

‘Are you serious?!’ Gallar interrupted him. ‘You are going to just listen to her?!’

‘She could have led them here. And she didn’t have to come back, but she did. That’s enough for me’ the ellon grabbed her by the arm ad pulled her towards the fire. ‘Come, beanna. Let’s see if you’ve made the right choice.’


	3. Days 11-15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update of something! Fictober was over a while ago, but I like the prompts, and two I like to finish what I started. Also, because I think it's worth noticing - there snippets are largely unedited so if you'll find something glaringly horrible, please accept my apologies.

**11\. “It’s not always like this.”  
(Witcher School (larp) Neve, mention of injury-not graphic) **

The crumbling tower of the castle loomed over her, tossing the long, dark shadow onto the forest surrounding the old fortress. Neve nestled herself on the piece of fallen wall, balancing her journal against her bent knee and tried to focus.

After a few, long moments of staring at the blank page, with ink drying at the tip of her quill, she decided that it was pointless. There was a dull ache in her temples the origin of which she did not want to determine. It might have been anything from the lack of sleep to the bitter, herbal brew they made them drink after supper last night.

And it was only one of the few, permanent aches that seemed to be etched into her flesh by now. After being subjected to the rounds of grueling training sessions, she had been bruised and scratched to the point when undressing in the evening was only possible without shame, because the others looked just like her. Right now the most prominent ache seemed to be radiating off of her wrist, broken recently in a sparring match. It was the thing that allowed her to sneak up here now, because while she was deemed healed enough to work around the castle and perform other light physical activity, the archery training was still off limits.

For which she was immensely grateful. Any time spend away from master Edwin was a good one. If she had to hear one more word about killing elves, she might be tempted to put one of the arrows into him.

Neve sighed and turned her face towards the sun, enjoying the warmth.

It was not the first time when she regretted ever setting foot in Kaer Tiele.

But it wasn’t like she had many options then. And it seemed better then dying for the lost cause.

‘I thought you were supposed to become a Wolf, not a Cat.’

She turned her eyes towards the sound. She was a little surprised to see Milton staring up at her. He was one of those older witchers who didn’t pay the adepts much attention, unless it was to fill them with stories about the most gruesome aspects of their future trade.

‘Maybe wolves enjoy this just as much as cats do… What are you doing here?’

‘Looking for someone able-bodied I could put into some work.’

‘I’m afraid that you got the wrong person’ she replied, raising her hand so he could see the slates still bound around her wrist. She really didn’t feel like moving, and since he was not a master, she had a bit more leeway at being rebellious.

‘I will need your head, not your arm. Get down.’

Neve rolled her eyes, and muttered one of the elvish curses under her breath, before carefully tucking away her writing supplies and climbing down. When she landed on the ground next to him and reached to dust off her gambeson, she could swear she caught him smirking.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘You seem to be doing very well for someone with a broken wrist.’

‘Well, blame that on whatever they are putting into our food’ she snapped.

He seemed completely unbothered by her tone.

‘Another angry one I see…’

‘I’m fairly certain that most of us do not really have a choice…’

‘You always have a choice.’

‘When was the last time you looked into a mirror and told yourself that?’

Now she was sure that he actually smiled, however briefly.

‘I don’t really have much reason to look into the mirror anymore.’

Neve couldn’t quell a laugh that escaped her in response. For a while they walked beside each other in silence, though she was acutely aware of being watched.

‘It’s not always going to be like this, you know…’

‘No, no, no, cut it out’ she shook her head and put her arm up for emphasis. ‘If this is going to be another story about spilling guts and untimely deaths, then maybe you could just tell me, what do you want from me?’

‘Master Killian wants someone to help him in the lab… You seemed to be enjoying yourself there…’

‘Reminded me of what my mother used to teach me…’ she grimaced briefly. She didn’t mean to say that out loud. ‘Never mind. I’m not the only adept that isn’t training right now…’

‘Maybe, but you can read and write, and you haven’t managed to piss him off just yet…which is a rare feat. So, chin up and come on; and maybe you won’t have to wake up at sunrise with the rest tomorrow.’

Neve perked up a little at that. While she didn’t particularly mind the early hour, she would do anything to avoid master Edwin and his drills.

Few hours in the dusty cellar weren’t even that much of a price.

**12\. “What if I don’t see it?”  
(Regular Neve, no warnings apply)**

Neve leaned against the rim of the washtub and stared at the fire crackling in the fireplace. The water was steaming around her, just on the edge of being too hot, but the elleth enjoyed the heath and the way it eased her sore muscles somehow.

She never thought that the life she chose for herself would be an easy one, but the last couple of days seemed to be particularly harsh. And she didn’t mean the heavy snowfall and the freezing temperatures that accompanied them during their travel.

She wouldn’t have expected that working with other mercenaries would have proven so difficult to her. She was used to Alven and felt comfortable around him. They made their own rules and worked in tandem without having to listen and follow other people. But it meant that some well-paying contracts were outside her reach – either because they didn’t have the numbers to carry them out or because some people would not do business with nonhumans.

Which finally brought them into the fold of Mohar Posch’s company, a man who had both the means and the fame to his name that allowed him to turn being a mercenary into a very successful business. They spent last three weeks escorting a merchant caravan from Gors Valen and finally made it to Hagge when they finally found a bit of a respite from the weather. Neve had no doubt that Mohar was testing them on this first job and she could clearly see that, for now, Alven was doing much better job at garnering his approval.

She was fairly certain that whatever issue her new commander took with her had little to do with her pointed ears.

He was hardly the first to look down on her.

The door to her room creaked and she turned towards the sound, reaching for the dagger laying on the rim of the tub.

‘Don’t do this’ Alven kicked the door shut and smiled. ‘I’m sure you still need me alive. And I come bearing gifts’ he added raising the tray he held for emphasis.

‘Not hungry’ Neve muttered in response, turning back towards the fire.

‘Nonsense’ Alven responded, crossing the room and using his foot to push a small stool towards the tub. ‘We just spent the entire day outside in this bloody cold…’

‘That’s why I would much rather focus on warming up’ the elleth slid further into the water. Alven sat on the stool beside her and put the tray on his knees.

‘I never asked you to come out; but I would like you to cheer up a little. We are doing well… You are doing well. Mohar is just that kind of asshole, but he will see your potential sooner or later.’

Neve glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

‘What if I don’t see it?’

Alven smirked, before leaning forward and kissing the ball of her shoulder.

‘Then I shall remind you… later… Now, we are eating’ he torn of a piece of roasted meat and offered it to her.

Neve made sure to nip him lightly on the finger when she took it.

**13\. “I never knew it could be this way.”  
(Witcher School (larp) Neve, no warnings apply)**

Neve stood at the edge of a small pond and cringed at the way the icy cold water bit against her bare toes. At least the place was secluded enough, surrounded almost entirely by the tall, stone walls that gave her some sense of privacy. Still, things were far from comfortable. She didn’t expect to ever miss the tight, crowded bathrooms of Kaer Tiele and yet… Well, it wasn’t like she was returning there any time soon. And her shirt was stuck to her back so securely, it made her wonder if she will be able to pull it off without ripping the skin off.

She undressed slowly and waded into the water. She sucked in a breath, expecting the unpleasant cold to seep into her skin, but then stopped, when she realized that the sensation wasn’t as intense as she thought it would be.

‘Hmm…’ she muttered to herself, running her palms through the clear water. She didn’t even have to squint to see the small stones covering the bottom of the pond. Her eyes strayed to the scars on her left forearm. While still angry and red, the wound has healed within three weeks and didn’t leave any lasting damage behind.

‘What’s so interesting?’

‘I never knew it would be this way…’ she murmured, turning towards the sound. ‘Are you stalking me?’

‘Wandering off alone is a bad idea’ Gallar smiled, seating himself on a fallen log near her piled up clothing. ‘And I asked you the question first.’

‘And I am giving you a view’ she retorted, folding her arms under her breasts.

‘I can see’ Gallar rested his hands on his knees. ‘I had no idea though, that you were this desperate for a bath. Especially not given the weather. How are you not shivering?’

‘It’s probably the sign that whatever they did to me during the Trials is working? It wouldn’t do to have witchers dropping off, because they caught a bit of a chill…’

‘What do you mean? Don’t you know what they did?’

‘Oh, I remember plenty of different things… how I was bleeding out on the table and was not sure if I will make it… But it wasn’t like anyone had told us the details we didn’t have to know. Which makes discovering what’s different now that much more… exciting?’

‘You were bleeding out?’ he seemed both shocked and confused.

‘Well in the end I didn’t. Not completely anyway’ Neve replied smirking. ‘Now, turn around and at least pretend that you are not staring.’

‘Will you tell me more about it?’

‘Maybe’ she shrugged. ‘It’s not much of a story worth telling…’

‘I beg to disagree’ the ellon smiled as he obediently turned around. ‘A chance to speak with a witcher about their secrets without the fear of paying with my neck for it? Who am I to pass up such an opportunity?’

‘Define secrets’ Neve crouched, splashing more water onto her shoulders. ‘And I wouldn’t rule out the neck bit so quickly either’ she added, though her voice carried the echo of a smile she was trying to cover with her unbraided hair.

‘Pretend all you want, beanna, but we both know you wouldn’t go with that’ the ellon replied, turning and offering her a charming smile over his shoulder. ‘If my company was such a bother to you, it wouldn’t be the first thing you sought out after leaving the witchers’ lair.’

Neve pulled her hair over her shoulder, turning slightly to glance back at the ellon.

‘You are right, I wouldn’t’ she conceded. ‘Just don’t expect me to repeat it too often…’ she added smiling back at him.

He was right. She came straight here for a reason. And wanting to find out more about the elves involvement in the school’s trouble was only a small part of it.

‘I wouldn’t dream about it’ Gallar responded. ‘Besides where is the fun in that?’

‘Ah yes, because being at the receiving end of your charming humor is a special brand of fun’ Neeve scoffed, running a wet hand across her neck.

‘Well I don’t remember you being this sour before… That’s a witcher thing too?’

‘If you think me sour you should see some of my… Well, wouldn’t you turn out sour too, leading the existence of the witcher?’

‘Living the way we do” the ellon responded, his tone turning serious. ‘Sour seems to be an awful waste of time. We get that enough from everyone around us, don’t you think?’

Neve smiled to herself. Us. Definitely took him a while to say that out loud. Though to be honest, she supposed that she now had more to do with nonhumans than with regular ones. At least in their eyes.

**14\. “I can’t come back.”  
(Regular Neve, no warnings apply)**

It took two men a moment to close the door again, cutting off the blizzard raging outside. If the snow won’t let up soon, Neve didn’t see them leaving anytime soon.

Being stranded in the tiny inn in the middle of nowhere was hardly an ideal way to pass the time. But it was better than having to seek shelter outside.

At least it was warm inside, if a bit stuffy. She was certain the room was filled with a least twice as many people as it was initially designed to hold. Nobody seemed to mind much. Quite the contrary the spirits appeared to be quite high.

Though that might be due to booze just as well. The mulled wine was rather excellent for such a tiny place.

She had enough to make the world around her pleasantly fuzzy. It made the noise and the fact of being stranded much more bearable.

As if on cue, one of the mercenaries seated by the nearest table roared with laughter and pulled one maids into hit lap. Neve glared at him and sneered above her cup.

The motion brought a smirk to Alven’s lips.

‘You can always go back, you know? Nothing is stopping you.’

‘Go back?’ she scoffed, looking inside her almost empty cup. She needed more wine if they were going to talk about it yet again. ‘Go back to where?! I can’t go back and you fucking well know that!’

Alven took a sip of his drink, thoroughly unbothered by her glare. He knew she would not dare to make a scene in an inn full of people. And right under the nose of their new companions.

No, appearances were everything to her. And he had to admit he quite admired the way she was capable of keeping them most of the time.

‘It’s not to say that I do not enjoy your company… quite the contrary in fact’ the elf motioned for a maid to bring them new drinks. ‘But if this life… overwhelms you, as I can clearly see it does at times… Why not go down a different route? I know you have the skills… and the opportunity if you want to. Living in the Temple of Melitle would certainly be more appealing than the discomfort of the road… or a company’ Alven added, when the molested girl squealed.

The mercenary’s hand finally found its way beneath her skirts.

Neve chuckled as another waitress refilled their cups.

‘I doubt that… their robes for one aren’t particularly flattering…’

‘Anything you wear is flattering…’

‘Now, you should shut it, cause I’m not biting tonight…’

‘A shame truly…’

‘Alven, even this brash innuendo I’m unfortunately enjoying, proves that life of a priestess is not for me…’

‘Oh, knowing how well you can play pretend, I don’t think this would be too difficult for you.’

‘For a few years maybe… But in the end, I wouldn’t be ale to stand it. See I don’t do well in cages no matter how gilded. So, I’d rather choose what freedom I can even if the company is…’ she glanced above his shoulder and grimaced. ‘Questionable.’

‘Now, you wound me…’

‘Not all the company you annoying tit…’

‘You like when I’m annoying’ Alven leaned over the table. ‘And I…’ he trailed off. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Nothing’ Neve smirked over the rim of her cup.

‘Are you drunk?’

‘Possibly…’ she muttered, running her foot up his leg again. ‘I wonder what are you going to do about it?’

‘You’re insufferable…’ the elf grinned.

‘And you like me that way.’

‘That I do… Do you want to ditch the present company? We still have at least a few hours before the rest of them will barge into our room…’  
‘And who is insufferable one now?’

‘I’m not the one who made it handsy…’ he retorted standing up. ‘Come now!’

Neve couldn’t stifle a giggle as she followed him out of the common room.

**15\. “That’s what I’m talking about!”  
(Regular Neve, no warnings apply)**

Waiting seemed to become her new default. And Neve was getting well and truly fed up with it.

At least when she stayed in a village, like she did now, she could count on finding someone who was in need of her healing skills. And sometimes she could even expect of getting paid for it – though she rarely saw money these days at least they did not have to spend whatever Geralt was earning for supplies. Or oats for the horses. Or lodgings.

So, the arrangements had some certain perks. Still it did little to ease her worries. She could never be sure what shape the witcher will be in when he returns. Or if he returns at all.

She shouldn’t care that much. They barely knew each other. And n the evet of the witcher’s untimely demise she would just pack up and go seek another job. She’d done that before.

And Geralt himself seemed to be dismissive enough of her worries. Regardless of how many times she had voiced them.

As if on cue, the door to their room creaked open, revealing the subject of her wonderings.

And the bloody rag wrapped around his bicep.

‘That’s what I’m talking about!’ she exclaimed, walking around one of the pallets thrown onto the floor to get to him.

Geralt faced her and blinked.

‘You haven’t said a word yet…’

Neve huffed rolled her eyes, but as she got better look at his face, she noticed that his pupils were nothing more than slits.

‘This!’ she repeated, waving her hand in front of his face. ‘And this!’ she reached and grabbed his arm. ‘If you’d only let me go with you…’

Geralt groaned, but obediently fell backward when she pushed him onto the chair.

‘You know I can’t do that… Besides you are doing more than enough already…’

Neve arched an eyebrow, pulling the last layer of the makeshift dressing away from the wound. Blood trickled down her hand.

‘Like stitching your muscle back to your arm? It’s almost sliced off…’

‘That too… But it’s been a while since I hadn’t been sneered at or span on… at least not openly. You seem to remedy that with your presence…’

‘Only because we share the sneers in half’ the elleth chuckled to herself and hefted her chest up onto the table. ‘And I seriously wonder what did you drank today… This potion seems to have some peculiar properties…’ she smiled wider when she grabbed his arm again and he flinched away from her.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It seems to… lower your inhibitions. Usually you communicate with me via grunts whenever you come back from a hunt… unless… what did you fought exactly?’ she asked, not able to keep concern completely out of her voice. It’s been a while since the last time she had to brew an antitoxin. And she needed some venom to do that in the first place.

‘Nothing too dangerous… It’s just…’ Geralt trailed off. ‘We’ve been doing this a while…’

‘Oh… are you getting fond of me?’

‘Your words not mine.’

‘Why, you flatter me witcher… Does that mean I have free rein over treating you from now on?’

‘If you spare me the nagging…’

‘Nagging is the integral part of the treatment…’

‘Then absolutely not… What are you doing?’

‘I told you I have stitch this back to your arm. And there is a glare I’m familiar with…’


	4. Days 16-20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the spirit of "we are finishing our bloody WIP's" here is another instalment. Hopefully to be over with it before the next Fictober ;) Also, since we gathered lately for a little meet up, this is dedicated solely to Witcher School Neve and friends.

  1. ** “Listen. No, really listen.”**

  
Days were getting shorter. The quickly settling darkness in the courtyard was brightened by a huge fire burning in the middle of it. Neve however, ignored the people milling merrily around it, in favor of one of the nooks in the wall, brightened by a single torch. She fitted herself against the wall and braced a huge musty tome on her folded knees, intent to do some reading for as long as she would be able without knocking back a Cat.

She should have done that earlier, but her mouth had ran away from her yet again during an archery lesson and master Edwin had sent her for kitchen duty. Which wasn’t by far the worst punishment she could have imagined, but it did stole her entire day.

Maybe she should have just shut up. Pretend she hadn’t heard a thing like others did. But sometimes it was downright impossible. And if he felt fine with slandering elves like that, she was more than fine with taking the punishment for defending them.

So there she was, squinting over the book stinking of mold, reading on differences between ghouls and alghouls. Whether she liked it or not, tis was about to become the core of her life. And if she wanted to keep if for longer than a few months, she needed to know these things.

Someone laughed heartily and the fire cracked, sending the shower of sparkles into the dark, velvety sky.

The next thing that interrupted her were footsteps.

‘Neve, are you sober?’

‘Of course she is’ another voice cut in with a laugh. ‘Nobody in their right mind would read John of Brugge while drunk.

‘Really? I can’t imagine reading this while sober…’

‘Which explains your attitude for ghouls… ouch!’

Neve sighed and put her finger between pages, before she closed the book and looked up. There stood, as expected, Lukka and Linda. The dark-haired witcheress had her hand wrapped around her forearm, in place where Lukka’s fist undoubtedly had been seconds before.

‘Ladies’ she said without standing up. She really didn’t feel like moving. And she had at least an hour of reading time left. ‘Is there anything I can help you with?’

‘See? I told you she is someone to be counted on’ Lukka grinned, looking between the adept and Linda. ‘There is a thing we might need your help with…’

‘I’m not doing beer running duty; I have better things to do.’

‘John of Brugge is hardly better than anything’ Linda cut in, ‘much less than a beer with friends for sure…’

‘Shush’ Lukka hissed. ‘I’m serious, we need help. Or more like a backup really. Kilian needs some equipment from the cellar beneath the broken tower, but he says there are some pests there. And who is better to take care of that for him than the adept he was given to torment?’

Neve stopped herself from sighing and rolling her eyes. She wasn’t counting on getting away from this one. Once Lukka put her mind to something, changing her mind was like trying to get a mule to move. Not going to happen unless it wanted to.

‘You want even have to do much’ Linda added, taking a sip of whatever filled her water-skin this time. ‘Just guard the door and hold the torch so we won’t damage master Kilian’s precious trinkets…’

‘And drawn those _pests_ to me?’ she sighed, but tucked the book into the canvas bag and stood up.

‘Nonsense’ The blonde responded. ‘You’re safe with us. And you do pretty well yourself from what I was able to see lately. You’ll be fine.

Neve wasn’t sure of either of those things, but she took the torch from Lukka and followed the two women through the gate and down the path leading away from the castle, straight to the old tower. They rounded it up, and climbed down the steep slope to the narrow opening in the rock. The corridor was drafty and the moldy, rotten stink was difficult to ignore.

She made it maybe a half way down the narrow flight of steps when she heard… something.

‘Listen’ she whispered, hesitant to go any further. The two women didn’t even turn around. ‘No, really listen. Are those…?’

‘That’ Lukka turned around to glance at the younger witcheress, her smile all teeth. ‘Is your lesson on necrophages.’

‘You are joking, right?’ Neve asked, even if she already knew the answer.

‘Not at all. There is hardly a better way to learn than through practice. And I mean it when I say, that you are safe with us.’

‘Unless you are going to chicken out’ Linda snickered, ignoring the blonde’s glare.

‘Don’t listen to her’ Lukka said, shaking her head. ‘She is drunk.’

‘Is there a time when she isn’t?’

‘Hey!’

Lukka laughed and led the two women deeper into the cellar.  
  


  1. **“There is just something about them/her/him.”**

  
Neve sighed and loosened the buckles of her gambeson, shaking the stinking garment off. Autumn it may be, but the sun could steal heat up the air pretty well and it was now burning the back of her neck, causing her to sweat something awful.

She didn’t look forward to putting it back on in a few minutes, but she wasn’t looking forward to new bruises even more and fencing classes pretty much guaranteed it. She was one of the few Bones already waiting in the courtyard and she was starting to see some merit in other’s decision to stick to the cool interior of the castle. On the other hand, she really didn’t want to disappoint master Finn.

Her comrades could laugh all they wanted, but she apparently took to the people saving her life very easily. She felt indebted. And she really wanted to pay those debts. And while she could no longer do so for Chiarro, she could at least offer master Finn her respect and willingness to learn, until she comes up with something more suitable.

And the weather wasn’t really that bad. Unlike the company.

The courtyard was now occupied by the Blue Stripes, working their drills. Neve found herself watching them from her spot on the bench, but she found herself drawn to one man in particular – dark haired and fairly young with a scar curving through the skin of his cheek right next to his ear.

‘You are watching them like a hawk’ a voice remarked, but she barely had the time to look up when Tiago was already sitting next to her.

It annoyed her that she hadn’t notice him earlier. Sometimes she could hear a person walking up to her easily and sometimes she was still helpless like a child.

‘There is hardly anything better to do’ she muttered, leaning again the wall and grimacing. The stone was about as hot as the syn tickling her neck.

‘And that warrants the focus of someone plotting murder?’ Tiago mused, smirking.

Neve cleared her throat, well aware that playing indifferent in not going to work now. She never was good at pretending.

Her yes wandered to the man she observed before.

‘No, not really… But there is just something about him… Something familiar?’

Tiago was silent for a while, as if pondering his next words.

‘They burned your village, didn’t they?’ he asked. ‘Maybe you saw him there?’

Neve was surprised that he remembered, but she cocked her head to the side, thinking.

‘Honestly, I have no idea’ she said after a moment. ‘I was busy running away from them. And it’s certainly not the soldier that caught me, cause he would have to heal from the knife through his throat. But I’ve seen plenty of Stripes ever since.’

While running away from them, mostly. Or watching them murder those she come to see as friends. But she didn’t say that out loud. She really wasn’t in the mood for another lengthy dispute claiming that the only good elves were the dead ones.

Tiago however, appeared to want the exact opposite. Too bad. She liked him, but similarly to master Edwin, his thoughts about elves were far, far different than her own.

‘Maybe if your elders saw reason earlier it would have to come to this. Treason is treason…’

‘And tradition is hard to unlearn’ she snapped. ‘And had its perks. We were never attacked by the rebels. Zakole was in the middle of nowhere and even during the harshest winter, when they were starving in the woods, my village was safe.’

‘Probably because you fed them as well…’

He wasn’t wrong. But before she could tell him to shut up in case somebody was listening to their conversation, the rest of their group filed into the courtyard, announcing that master Finn was probably close behind.

‘We don’t have time for this…’ she muttered, standing up and pulling on her gambeson.

‘Spar with me today? Tiago asked following her.

‘What? Why?’

‘Because you won’t always get to avoid bigger opponents’ he said with a grin.

‘I’m not avoiding anything…’

‘Really? It sure looks like you are.’

‘I’m not scared if this is what you are implying.’

Tiago’s grin only widened.

‘Then prove it.’  
  


  1. **“Secrets? I love secrets.”**

  
The amount of time she was recently spending in the dusty cellars and wet dungeons, stood in the stark contrast with her fondness for the outdoors. But if that meant she was allowed to sleep for a bit longer and maybe earned some appreciation points with her tutor, than she really wasn’t going to complain.

Besides, dusting off, cataloguing, and shelving away the alchemy supplies was probably the easiest and most pleasurable task master Kilian could come up with, even if she was seeing little sun that day. At least she wasn’t currently crawling, belly down in a questionably smelling mud, looking for roots and mushrooms.

She crouched over a crate of dusty, glass vials. The thick layer of cobwebs clearly suggested that they have not been used in quite a while. Neve picked up the crate and carried it over to the basin filled with water, fighting the urge to sneeze.

She lost. A cloud of dirt rose into the air, making the itching worse to the point when her eyes began to water.

At least she didn’t trip. Master Kilian was annoyed enough as it was by another of Maurice transgressions and she had a feeling that explaining why exactly there is so much shattered glass on the floor would not go down well.

Neve sat on the small stool and began to put vials into the water.

It wasn’t long before her eyes began to once again stray towards the tall bookshelf filled with tomes and scrolls, she had no doubt were much, much older than her. She wasn’t even sure if she would be able to read them, but the temptation was obvious. Especially since master Kilian told her that if he so much as smell her standing near his books, she was going to regret ever being born.

‘Some things are just bound to remain secret’ she muttered to herself, turning the wet vial in her hand.

‘Secrets? I love secrets!’

The vial fell back into the basin, clinking against the other bottles floating inside. Neve exhaled sharply and turned towards the doorway and the dim staircase behind.

Maurice was looking at her, leaning on the door frame.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked squinting. She didn’t need him here. Whether he planned it or not, Maurice presence always meant trouble. Which was something she constantly tried to avoid.

‘Just curious” the other adept shrugged, taking a few steps into the room. ‘This door is always closed, so when I noticed it open, I couldn’t help myself. Is this Kilian’s storage?’

Neve wasn’t even going to ask why he was snooping around in the cellars.

‘It is’ she nodded ‘and you shouldn’t be here. Please go away…’

‘Come on’ he smiled at her. ‘Our alchemy teacher has let you into his storage and you aren’t curious in the slightest?’ he asked, walking over to the bookshelves filled with bottles and jars she already cleaned off and sorted.

‘No’ she replied. ‘Mostly because I like my hands where they are… attached to my body. Don’t touch this’ she said when he reached for a jar filled with yellow powder. ‘Most of these are poisonous even to a fully transformed witcher. Do you really want to check what this is going to do to you?’

‘Do you want to know how much some people would pay to test the potency of those secret witcher formulas?’

Neve was wondering how to toss Maurice out of the room without damaging anything, when another shadow shifted in the staircase.

‘If you want to keep all of your fingers, you will put that down.’

Fortunately, it wasn’t master Kilian. Though when she took in the fiery red hair and a sharp, predatory smile of the woman who slid into the room, Neve wasn’t so sure if they were better off for that.

Maurice visibly paled and immediately did as he was told.

‘M-moira? What a-are you doing here?’

The woman sauntered over, graceful as a cat. Neve didn’t even notice when she procured a small blade she was now spinning between her fingers.

‘Maurice, Maurice… How do you plan on being a witcher when you don’t have an ounce of survival instinct?’ she stopped barely a few inches away from him. ‘What did I tell you?’

‘I can explain…’ he started only to suddenly his and stumble back. Moira barely shifted on her feet, but there he was, clutching his cheek.

‘I’ll give you one more chance to say that properly’ she said, pondering the bloodied blade.

Maurice swallowed.

‘Please forgive me. I made a terrible, terrible mistake… It will not happen again…’

‘Of course it won’t… unless you want to start losing your less important pieces. Now shoo…’

Neve wasn’t sure whether she was terrified or fascinated by the display.

The red-haired witcheress must have sensed her stare, because she turned to glare at her.

Fear was obviously a better option.

‘Do we have a problem, pup?’ Moira’s voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the hairs at the back of Neve’s neck still prickled.

‘No, of course not’ she answered quickly. ‘Actually, I wanted to thank you.’

The other woman blinked rapidly, as if surprised, before her smile grew a little wider.

‘Good’ she winked at her, before turning around and pushing Maurice through the door.

  1. **“Yes, I admit it, you were right.”**

  
Neve didn’t want to drag water and mud into the main hall, so she trudged upstairs and changed, before heading to join her team. Her hair was still dripping though, and her wet underwear was currently making her rather uncomfortable.

If only she minded her feet more, instead of focusing solely on where her blade was going, she’s probably wouldn’t end up like this. Still she was rather grateful, that she finished the hunt with the ungraceful tumble down the hill. Straight into the murky pond.

Well, it could have ended much worse, so regardless, she wasn’t going to complain.

Despite feeling like everyone was looking at her when she entered the main hall. She spotted a few members of her team occupying the far corner and made her way between the tables to finally plop down onto the bench beside Linda.

‘Look what the cat dragged in’ Lukka mused. ‘What did you do to her Milton?’

‘Absolutely nothing’ he shrugged. ‘I was actually trying to help, didn’t I Neve?’

The older witcher, despite his carefully neutral expression, was practically vibrating with amusement. Neve huffed and glowered from above the rim of her tankard.

‘Yes, I admit it, you were right…’ she muttered, when his unmoving stare started to chafe.

His beard twitched as a fleeing, though smug smile twisted his lips around the pipe he was smoking. Bastard.

‘And?’ he prompted when she remained stubbornly quiet.

Neve swallowed a curse and held his gaze.

‘Thank you’ she said, taking a sip of her beer and wincing. The drink warmed up while she was gone, rendering whatever pleasure she might have from consuming it non-existent. ‘Had I heeded your advice; I wouldn’t be sopping wet right now. I should definitely listen to you more often. Following your wisdom might certainly help me survive on the path for a little longer…’

Linda couldn’t keep a straight face any longer and snorted into her tankard, before promptly choking on her drink. Lukka reached over, without even looking and slapped the other woman across her back a few times, before glancing up at her and smirking.

‘At least you already know how to speak’ she told her. ‘Sarcasm makes at least half of what helps us survive dealing with people…’

‘On the contrary’ Milton interrupted her. ‘You could end up very dead, very quickly if somebody will take what you said literally… And you want always be doing business with nobility…’

‘Nobility’ Linda regained her voice, but her face was still flushed. ‘Would usually take offence far quicker than your regular reeve… And they are way more difficult to appease.’

‘She has a point’ Neve said, sipping at her awful, warm beer.  
  


  1. **“You could talk about it, you know?”**

  
It was raining. Just like yesterday and the day before. The courtyard ran with the rivulets of mud and they dragged most of it indoors after the classes have ended. At least they weren’t about to be forced outside yet again today, because most masters vastly preferred a beer by the burning fireplace to another round of schooling the adepts. So, Neve changed out of her wet, muddy clothes, not really hoping that they will be wearable by morning, since there were about twenty other gambesons hanging in her room as well. But at least for now, she was warm and comfortable, and while she didn’t actively participate in the game of dice, she enjoyed the company of her fellow Bones.

But it also made her think of the company she used to keep not so long ago. Uninvited, her thoughts circled back to the times when she had to gain the trust of a group much less open than her current companions had been. She did. Or at least she thought so. Because at some point the jabs turned into gentle teasing and the annoyance at her lack of skills into attempts of amending that. And maybe she never really felt like she belonged, but she felt accepted and needed. And free. Free to make her life into whatever she wanted which was so different from the be all, end all fate of becoming a mother and a wife that awaited her if the burning of Zakole didn’t happen.

Sometimes she still regretted that it burned. How simple would have life been then.

And how much poorer.

She took a sip of her beer, quickly noticing that her tankard was empty. Well this mood and this weather certainly warranted getting drunk.

But before she could think about standing up and getting another, the full tankard was shoved across the table straight in front of her. She looked up, surprised, she saw Desmond, claiming the bench across from her to himself. His brows knitted together, and he made a vague gesture above his forehead, before pointing at her.

Desmond was mute. And while she still struggled at times to understand what he wanted to say, it was getting easier with every conversation.

‘Nothing’ she said, smiling up at him, only to receive another cocked eyebrow. She watched as he reached into his pouch and pulled a folded worn piece of paper. When he spread it on the table between them, she saw letters, written orderly in thick, black ink. Desmond put his finger on the first letter and smiled at her, clearly encouraging her to follow.

‘Pretty neat’ she smirked, earning herself an impatient tap onto the table. ‘Alright, fine let’s see… So…me…thing… is…clea…’

There was a clatter of something falling onto the floor. Few people laughed, effectively distracting her. She shot Desmond an apologetic smile and looked back to the paper, slowly reading the sentence to herself.

_Something is clearly bothering you._

‘Nothing…’ she sighed. ‘Not really at least… just thinking about things I’m probably shouldn’t be thinking about’ she took a sip of her beer. ‘It’s the weather really… We get too much free time lately…’

She trailed off because Desmond was tapping his paper again.

_Whatever it is, you could always talk about it, you know? _He smiled, obviously feeling smug. _I’m not going to tell._

She snorted into her beer, very nearly choking on it. Desmond’s smile widened into a full grin.

‘Nice one, I must give you that’ she smiled at him. ‘And thank you.’

_But I did nothing._

‘Oh no, you did more than enough.’

Not only he provided her with a distraction, but she appreciated his presence much more.

They continued drinking in companionable silence, listening to Linda yet again accusing Milton of cheating.


	5. Days 22-25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I passed on the day 21 prompt "change is annoyingly difficult" because this prompt was annoyingly difficult. Nothing I came u with seemed to be on par with the rest of the ficlets in this round and I happen to be rather proud of them. Maybe I will come around and add it to the end of the last chapter, but I've been sitting on these for too long. Enjoy!

  1. ** “We could have a chance.”**

  
Neve wasn’t sure exactly what had woken her up. The fire was still burning high in the fireplace, bathing the room in warmth and a pleasant, orange glow. Tucked beneath the thick furs covering the large bed she did not care about the wind whistling outside, nor about the pouring rain or the occasional rumble of thunder rolling behind the closed shutters.

Their last job had been particularly fruitful, and they’ve earned enough money to afford one of the more elegant rooms at the inn and all the luxuries that came with it. Enough coin has also assured that the innkeeper and his staff were no longer sneering at them. Neve wasn’t particularly fond of smuggling, yet alone where the good was fisstech, but Alven didn’t have such qualms.

The elleth stretched her arms and confirmed what it was that had woken her. The curious lack of a warm body next to her. And here she thought that after a pleasant supper and even more pleasant evening, nothing is going to rouse them before sunrise. Unless Alven was not sated yet. He had peculiar taste in lovers, liking both men and women equally, therefore he had certain needs she was neither able, nor willing to meet. And he was fine with that as long as she did not demand exclusivity.

She didn’t. She loved to have her own freedom and was the last person to impose her will on others. Besides their partnership was working out just fine and Neve really didn’t want to spoil it with her demands.

Sleep forgotten, the elleth sighed and sat up. Looking around the dimly lit room, it didn’t take her long to spot the object of her thoughts, seated at the table by the fire.

Neve observed him for a while, enjoying the way the deep shadows and the lights of the fire made his features more pronounced.

The elf himself appeared pensive and deep in his own thoughts. Her eyes slid lower all the way to the abandoned ale bottle laying next to the chair.

The elleth sighed and crawled out of the bed. She padded over to her companion and gently placed her hands on his shoulders.

‘What’s on your mind, hm?’ she asked and leaned down, pressing her lips swiftly to the ball of his shoulder. ‘Did something happen?’ she prompted, when he remained silent and did not look up at her.

He did however, reached up for one of her hands. Neve stilled when he pulled it forward and focused his attention at it, gently running his thumb over her knuckles.

She wondered briefly if he was drunk. Then again, they didn’t drink nearly enough for one more ale to tip the scales.

‘Do you think we could have had a chance?’

Neve sighed and walked around to carefully slip herself onto his lap. She just watched him for a moment, running her fingers through the strands of hair framing his face, before wrapping her free arm around his neck.

Up close, she noticed how tired he looked. It wasn’t difficult to guess what he was thinking about.

She realized early on that Alven was in this business for much longer than she was. It was obvious by the way he walked, or talked, or fought. It took her much longer to see through that and realize that there was a different person hidden beneath the brash, arrogant and self-assured veneer.

It took her even longer to learn the details.

She was born into dirt and never strayed too far away from it. Alven however, was born and raised differently. His parents lived amongst humans as equals, worked side by side with them and watched their son play with their neighbors children. He grew up believing that this is the right way of things and that he too, will live the similar existence.

But then, the cleansings came.

Alven didn’t speak much about how he had survived, only that he got quite good at it. And Neve did not press him for it – she had her own wounds she did want to poke. But she understood.

Maybe this is why their arrangement was working out so well… It was easier to be broken together.

‘Chance at what?’ she asked, even if she knew the answer. He needed to get this off his chest.

‘To lead a different life? Away from all of this suffering and violence we both deliver and endure? Just out of the way of the world…’ he sighed. ‘Somewhere where we wouldn’t have to constantly wash the blood off of our hands.’

She had that chance. And she threw it to the wind.

She wondered on more than one occasion if it was the right thing to do.

And most of the times, the answer she came up with was not one she particularly liked.  
  


  1. **“You can’t give more than yourself.”**

  
The blood just wouldn’t wash off.

Her hand felt rough from rubbing, but still she could see it, staining the creases around her nails. She let it stay there for way too long.

The washbasin swam before her eyes and Neve had to blink and chase the sensation away. But each time, it was harder to do. She had no idea how long it had been since she had slept, but it was getting to her.

Especially now that the clamor of battle died down.

She was slowly losing the count of battles she took part in. After a while they all bled into one another, creating a never ending collage of slaughter and carnage, and people fighting tooth and nail to survive another day. Just as she did. Most days, the blood was not only on her hands, but everywhere – caked into her hair, stiffening her sleeves, spraying into her face. She could feel it even now, but when she bent over to wash her face, the water in the basin was already red.

She lurched away, battling the wave of nausea and slowly realized that she had already washed herself as much as possible.

And she was on limited time. She had to get a grip on herself. There were still people out there that needed tending and the medics that came with them were woefully underprepared.

She had to defend them as much as she helped them patching up wounded and over time, their guards were limited, the soldiers needed elsewhere. And Neve simply went with it, unwilling to complain as long as she kept her little group of healers alive.

When someone entered the tent, she spun so fast that her vision blurred again. She hadn’t realized that there were arms holding her by the shoulders until Alven’s face swam into focus. Dirty, haggard, but mostly concerned.

And above all else alive.

‘Neve what are you doing?’ the ellon asked.

‘I had to wash my hands. I couldn’t see what I was doing anymore… I’m about to get back to the infirmary…’ feeling more steady on her legs she stepped away and walked back to the chair where she previously dumped her clothes.

Her gambeson stank.

‘And you’ve been at it for how long?’

‘Hard to tell’ she shrugged, turning to look at him. Alven was slumped and looked drawn, clearly favoring his right side. Most of his armor was gone and Neve felt her own concern, pushing through the fog in her mind.

‘Are you injured?’ she asked walking back to him. ‘Where? What happened?’

‘Nothing’ he dismissed, wincing when her hand ghosted over his ribs. ‘An unfortunate tumble off the horse…’ he tried again.

‘Bullshit’ the elleth cut him off. ‘I know your tells. Come let me see…’

‘Neve stop it’ he shook his head as she walked him to one of the cots. ‘You can’t give more than yourself. Hell, you are looking ready to drop off…’

‘I think I will manage to stay upright for a little while longer for you’ she hoped her smile looked convincing as she turned around to pick up the various vials and tools she thought she would need. ‘I will gladly pass out after I’ll make sure you are not bleeding out… and you can pass out with me’ she added, seeing that his eyes were drifting shut despite his best intentions.

‘I’m fine…’ Alven blinked, before shrugging out of his gambeson with visible difficulty.

‘Says the man who just told me not to run myself ragged…’ she returned to his side. ‘I wasn’t thrown to the frontlines and still I am up to my elbows in gore most of the time… you don’t have to pretend with me.’

Over time, these words has become a key to take down the last of their defenses. They’ve seen each other at their absolute worse and there was not much that fazed them anymore.

So she watched and the last traces of tension melted away from Alven’s shoulders as he leaned forward, pressing her forehead against her sternum.

‘It hurts to breathe’ he admitted after a moment and Neve ran her hand over his hair gently.

She hadn’t realized before, how glad she was that he had made it back to her. One of these days they won’t be so lucky.

It was a thought for another day.  
  


  1. **“Patience… is not something I’m known for.”**

  
The wet strand of hair clinging to her cheek was starting to annoy her. As did the light rain, turning the wood beneath her feet slippery. Neve huffed and fixed the position of her arms again.

The balance beam wasn’t going to beat her. Even if it meant spending extra time on learning how to cross it.

At least there was nobody here at this hour to witness her struggle.

‘Weight on the balls of your feet.’

The voice startled her, the sudden movement causing the beam beneath her feet to shake violently. Neve tried to save herself from falling by extending her arms further away from her body, but it was far too late for that.

She met the ground with a wet thud. At least this time she had not landed in one of the muddy puddles surrounding the beam. She squeezed her eyes shut, her patience wearing thin. She lost count of how many times she had fallen off thus far. Felt like at least twenty.

‘Fuck…’ she huffed. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted with the thick layer of clouds covering the sky. Judging by the number of droplets hitting her face the rain was getting heavier.

‘You’re too stiff’ the same voice remarked. ‘You can’t counter the beam movement when you are rigid like that.’

‘I tried the more relaxed way…’ Neve muttered. ‘Got acquainted with dirt several times for my trouble…’

‘Well laying there and whining will not get you anywhere either…’

Neve scrambled to her feet and faced master Finn. Unlike the other tutors he wasn’t quick to anger. And while she obeyed other masters out of fear for her own skin, the mere thought of being rude to master Finn didn’t sit right with her.

If it wasn’t for him, she would be a wyvern’s dinner.

Though she had no doubt that he would have preferred to rescue someone a little less useless.

‘What are you standing there for? Get back up’ the witcher said, nodding slightly towards the beam.

She wasn’t going to argue with that. Brushing some dirt off her gambeson, she walked over to the end of the beam when she placed a tree stump to make getting on easier. She was grateful when she did not hear any further commentary, but then again, master Finn never even frowned when they tripped over their own feet during fencing class.

At least she was able to stand straight at this point. Though the wet wood beneath her feet has certainly made her feel even less secure.

‘Breathe… Hold your posture but don’t stiffen up. Ground your weigh at the balls of your feet.’

Neve did as she was told, focusing on her breathing rather than on the pounding rain. She had no idea how long she had been standing there, but eventually the beam stop shuddering beneath her feet.

‘Good. Now walk.’

She sighed and did as she was told. And somehow, guided by the instructions from master Finn the first few wobbly steps turned more confident.

At least until she decided that she could be quick about it.

Before she knew it, the world flipped and she hit the ground yet again. Fortunately landing few feet away from the puddle of muddy water forming beneath the beam.

‘Having a little patience would have certainly improved your performance… Learning how to walk goes before learning how to run.’

She was almost sure that his lips twitched when he said that, but it might have jus as well been a trick of light.

‘Patience…’ Neve muttered, standing up and trying to discretely rub what was about to turn into another nasty bruise. ‘Is not something I was known for…’

‘Then it’s a high time to work on some’ master Finn said, holding her gaze. His eyes seemed to almost glow in the slowly settling dusk. Neve fought off a shiver creeping up her back. ‘Impatient witchers don’t live for very long. Now, get on again.’

Neve ignored the painful spot between her shoulder blades and her increasingly shoddy clothes and scrambled back onto the beam.

She might not have been known for patience. But stubbornness was surely something she was well acquainted with.  
  


  1. **“I could really eat something.”**

  
When she heard the roar, shaking the very ground beneath her feet, Neve didn’t wait for the follow up and dived into the undergrowth, oblivious to the mud, concealing her presence.

She could still be smelled she supposed, but so far, staying out of sight had been enough to stay out of trouble as well.

She just wasn’t sure if she truly preferred listening to the sounds of the fight over staying behind in an inn that was at least dry and waiting for Geralt to return.

And her sensitive ears spared her no details. Every grunt, every huff, every wheeze of the sword… She didn’t really have to see the fight to know what was going on. More than once the sounds of fighting almost coaxed her out of her hiding spot. But she promised Geralt she would stay away, and she wasn’t arrogant enough to think that she could be anything else than a nuisance to him.

And yet, sticking to that promise was difficult, especially when she could tell that the fight was getting difficult. She knew what could happen – she got a taste of that after a botched fight with a wyvern and she wasn’t really ready for the repeat. So, she floundered around and tried to stay out of trouble. On a few occasions that wasn’t quite possible and she had to dispatch a ghoul or a drowner lured in by a commotion, much to the witcher’s irritation. But she tried to stay away from the bigger beasts, at least until the sounds of fighting died down.

Like now.

Neve crawled from beneath the bushes she hid in, brushed some stray twigs from her head and carefully stalked deeper into the forest and towards the clearing they found yesterday.

At least Geralt now allowed her to partake in tracking his prey, though he was still grumpy when they parted way to cover more ground. Somehow, he was still the one who ended up stumbling upon bandits more often, which was something Neve decided no to mention. Too often.

She didn’t find the witcher on the clearing, but it turned out that he was not to far away, just barely behind the lines of trees. And so was the chort he was paid to dispose of. The witcher was sitting with his back to the great oak, with his bloodied sword placed across his legs. But as soon as a twig snapped beneath her shoe, his head snapped up, searching for the approaching danger.

‘I don’t think any beast is going to risk coming here after all the noise you’ve made’ Neve remarked, approaching him.

‘Is it me, or each time you show up earlier?’ Geralt grunted. ‘What did I tell you about keeping your distance?’

‘I don’t see how being concerned about your wellbeing makes me a bad friend’ she countered. Now, that she was closer, she could see the thin web of dark lines covering the skin around his eyes. The skin that was even paler than normal and appeared ashen in the dim light beneath the trees.

Neve wasn’t put off by his changed appearance. At least not anymore.

‘Are you injured?’ she asked. ‘I know fighting this thing is likely no small feat, but usually you are up about by the time I make it to your side…’

Geralt looked up at her with a pinched expression that clearly spoke about discomfort. At least he wasn’t trying to hide it from her anymore.

‘The effect of potions is wearing off, nothing unusual’ Geralt replied. ‘I just need a moment… Which only proves that you are early’ he remarked though there was no real accusation in his voice.

‘Well, the sun is setting so I would say you took your time’ the elleth said and picked up his sword, wiping it clean with a rag she tucked into her belt. ‘As much as I think the villagers will be safer now, I don’t really want to wander around after nightfall… Can you get up?’

‘Of course,’ the witcher pushed himself to his feet and took his sword from her. But he did waver a little when he was sheathing it.

At least now, it was easier to notice these things.

‘Neve…’ Geralt sighed, when she reached and slid his arm around her shoulders.

‘I know, I know… You are fine’ the elleth brushed him off. ‘Forgive me if I not fully believe you after all those times you came back trailing in mud and blood...’

Whatever Geralt wanted to say, was drowned by a loud gurgle.

The sound was so unexpected it drew a startled laugh from her.

‘Really? Do you think that now is the time?’

Geralt looked away from her and appeared to be very glad that his constitution prevented him from blushing.

‘We burn energy faster than most. Especially after potions’ the witcher replied. ‘So, I could really eat something.’

‘You should have told me that earlier, but alas I only took bandages with me. But I am sure our grateful host will feed us when we get back. And you get some sleep; you look like you need a nap.’

Geralt did not answer her. But he also stopped resisting the grip she had on his arm, so the elleth simply smiled to herself and led them back towards the village.


	6. Days 26-31 + 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I finally finished Fictober 2019 prompt list in full. I'm adding prompt 21 at the end. Thanks to everyone who dropped by to read this. Now onto the next one :)

  1. ** “You keep me warm.”**

  
To be honest, Neve didn’t really mind winters. Well, she complained about cold loud and often, but it was mostly because everyone around her did and she didn’t want to seem like the odd one out.

In reality, she hated rain and mud more than the bitter chill of the winter months. A solid cloak and a pair of good boots were enough to keep her comfortable even through snowstorms.

Alven on the other hand, was completely unfit for the colder weather of the northern kingdoms. But whenever she mentioned that they could have travelled south, since the weather was obviously gentler there and they even treated nonhumans a bit better. And yet, he dismissed her every time, saying that there is more work for the likes of them here.

Neve didn’t really agree with that – Nilfgaard hired mercenaries all the same and sometimes, they even paid them better.

And they also worked with them on more than one occasion. Even during war. Neve suspected that was one of the reasons of Alven’s aversion. While they both found their way to the frontlines eventually, she was quickly shipped off to the field hospital, because the hands that could heal were in much higher demand than those that only killed. Alven meanwhile, was given a spot among the Vrihedd brigade. An elf who once carved himself a spot amongst the rebel fighters only to leave them when they were in a pinch, was tossed in their midst to fend for himself. He never complained out loud, but she could tell from all the little things that gave him away that those few months were not easy.

So, she eventually left that be, and only mentioned it in jests, sometimes suggesting that if he hated the south so much, supposedly Skellige was also quite open to the presence of nonhumans.

If only to see him making that thoroughly disgusted expression and telling her explicitly how the island weather is going to finish him of swiftly and cruelly.

As if sensing she was awake, the elf in question shifted beneath the furs that covered them and turned towards her, draping his arm across her waist and pulling her into his chest. Despite the furs and the fire roaring in the hearth, she could still feel goosebumps that covered his skin.

‘Gods, you are a bloody leech’ she complained, but did not resist the embrace.

Alven made a vague sound, that was probably meant to be a disagreement. Then she felt lips pressing to her bare shoulder and could resist a smile that tugged on her lips.

‘Maybe’ he muttered, his voice still heavy with sleep. ‘But I like clinging to you. You keep me warm.’

‘I know’ she traced the tiny ridges of flesh with her fingers. ‘Wearing some clothes to bed would do the same for you though.’

His lips twitched against her neck, before he reached and brushed her hair out of his way and, running his fingers over the blade of her ear.

‘Now that would be terribly mood-killing, don’t you think?’ he mused. ‘We are getting all cozy here and what do you see beneath all those blankets? Thick woolen trousers…’

Neve snorted and twisted around to face him.

‘If they would spare me the touch of your icy fingers…’ she hissed and arched her back as those same fingers slid down her spine. ‘Alven! Melitele be good, there is a mountain of furs on this bed!’

‘Are you playing priestess on me again? You know I enjoy…’ he laughed when she slapped his shoulder.

  
‘Shut it!’

  1.   
** “Can you wait for me?”**

  
Neve could feel water squelching in her boots. They were completely covered in mud and she sincerely hoped that they won’t come apart while they dry. She couldn’t afford a new pair right now.

Truth to be told, they could barely afford to stay at the inn, but they really needed a piece of roof over their heads. The weather was awful – winter seemed reluctant to come, turning the landscapes dreary and roads into the rivers of mud. Rain appeared to never stop, soaking everything, including the deepest creases of their saddle-bags. They tried to camp outside as often as the could since jobs were few and far between, but from time to time they need a proper meal and a spot to let their equipment dry.

Though there was hardly anything proper about the room. It had only a single chair and a pallet filled with hay and covered with a ratty blanket to serve for bed. But as long as there was a fire in the hearth she wasn’t going to complain. She certainly slept in worse places than this.

And she wouldn’t be alone.

Smiling to herself she carefully sat on the rickety stool and reached to remove her boots.

‘Hold your horses’ Alven interrupted her, pushing the door open. ‘I spoke with our gracious host and if we want, we can use the baths. The water is still warm.’

‘What did you do to him? He clearly barely accepted our money…’

‘Nothing you need to concern yourself with’ the elf dismissed. ‘Can’t you just enjoy simple pleasures when they present themselves?

‘Not when there is a price involved’ contrary to her statement, Neve stood up and picked up a bundle of clothes she wanted to change into.

‘So, you are interested.’

‘I’m just not going to pass on the opportunity to properly bathe.’

‘Can you wait for me? I thought we are going to go together’ Alven asked feigning offence.

‘And ruin my chances to wash in peace? I know what you are thinking about’ the elleth smirked. ‘You know where the baths are. You’ll find your way.’

  1.   
** “Enough! I heard enough.”**

  
Blood was making her hands slip. And the enormous tight she was trying to squeeze was not making it any easier.

‘Fuck this! It hurts…’

Never rolled her eyes and tried to take a peek beneath the blood soaked cloth. Which would be easier if her current charge would be unconscious, but he simply slapped the mug from her hand when she offered him a sleeping drought.

‘If you drank the potion, you wouldn’t feel a thing…’

‘And allow you to finish me off? Don’t count on it, mutt…’ the huge man groaned as she stuck her fingers into the wound again. ‘Why are you keep doing this?’

‘Because you keep moving’ Neve glared at him. ‘And I need to stop the bleeding somehow.’

What she truly wanted to do was to bash him upside the head with his own mace, laying discarded on the floor. Or simply leave him to bleed out. Mohar paid her mostly for keeping the others in one piece, however he did nothing to make it easy for her.

‘Just wrap it up. The bleeding will stop eventually’ Borgh dismissed through clenched teeth.

Neve once again swallowed the curse dancing at the tip of her tongue. No one said it will be an easy job.

‘You were struck with a serrated arrowhead’ she explained yet again. ‘Elvish arrowhead. It went deep into your leg and lodged into the bone. That was bad enough already, but you had to make it worse and yanked it out tearing muscles, tendons and veins. Be happy you didn’t nick the artery because we wouldn’t be talking.’

Borgh grimaced and growled something under his breath. The curses however had soon become audible.

‘… pathetic fuckers. Elven trash and their fucking weapons. And they don’t even have the balls to attack head on…’

‘Careful, Borgh’ she said trying to keep her rising temper in check. ‘This particular trash is currently making sure you are not going to bleed out…’

She pressed the cloth to the wound probably harder than she needed to. Borgh hissed, and cursed again, before he lurched forward, grabbing the front of her vest.

‘What do you think you are doing, bitch?’

‘Saving your sorry ass’ Neve spat. ‘I’m quite literally holding your life in my hands, so you might consider letting me go…’

‘Or what?’

‘Or I let go’ she replied, even as he pulled her closer. ‘And then you’ll bleed out.’

‘You wouldn’t dare mutt…’ Borgh’s voice was dripping with contempt. ‘Do you think you hold any power here, bitch? Mohar will have your head if you fuck it up. If you want to live, you will do your fucking job…’

‘Enough’ the door was pushed open, hitting the wall with a dull thud. ‘I’ve heard enough. You will not… unhand her at once.’

Neve stared at Alven standing in the doorway too shocked to tell him off. The elf’s elegant features were drawn and contorted – he was furious, when he usually appeared to be annoyed at best, regardless of how much somebody was pushing it.

Borgh however, seemed oblivious to the obvious threat.

‘Or what?’

‘Or I make sure to finish what those elves started’ Alven hissed, stalking towards them. Neve knew that his anger wasn’t directed at her, but she still had to resist the urge to back away.

‘You can’t do shit! Mohar will…’

Alven moved almost to quickly to notice like a striking snake, the handle of his dagger colliding with Borgh’s bald head. There was a dull crack and the man’s eyes rolled backwards before he toppled back onto the bed in a heap of tangled limbs.

‘What did you do?’

‘Likely saved his life. You wanted to wait until he passed out?’

‘No. But if Mohar…’

‘He won’t. This idiot here likely didn’t notice what hit him. You can tell him it was blood-loss. And please don’t let him speak to you that way ever again…’

‘I’m not sure if you noticed, but I don’t have much choice…’

‘You always have a choice. Your dignity is at stake. I saw you bring bigger men then him to their knees’ Alven bent and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. ‘You can do it. And I can always kill him for you.’

  1.   
** “I’m doing this for you.”**

  
Neve stared into her wine glass. The ruby liquid swirled as she rolled the stem between her fingers and appeared black in the faint light illuminating their room. It was excellent, warm and barely bitter on her tongue. As expected from the wineries of Toussaint, but she found it difficult to enjoy the fine vintage.

It was nothing more than a bribe. An attempt to make her more receptive to Alven’s newest idea.

They were supposedly joining the hansa of Mohar Posch. The elleth wasn’t even surprised that Alven waited with telling her until it was too late to talk him out of it. Because she would sure try.

Mohar’s fame far preceded him. Doing the work of a mercenary it was impossible not to know his name. He was brutally efficient and know for taking up any and all contracts regardless of how much blood had to be spilled to get the expected result. Because of that he, and by extension men and women that worked with him had been shrouded in a sort of a grim fame. People usually get out of their way without even trying to make a fuss, innkeepers somehow always had a room for them no matter how busy it was. And they couldn’t complain about the lack of work.

And money.

Neve understood that an alliance like this meant stability. She wasn’t ignorant enough to disregard the prospects they would have working for Posch. Or the certain level of safety his hansa would provide.

But she heard stories. And while she knew not to believe everything people said, some things were repeated often enough to deem them true. What worried her the most was that his attitude towards nonhumans.

They could easily become either allies or prey depending on Mohar’s mood.

‘Neve.’

‘Hm?’

‘You are still mad’ Alven stated, crossing the room to sit beside her.

‘I don’t see why I shouldn’t be. You know as well as I do that this might swing both ways…’

The elf sighed and placed his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently.

‘Neve, I know you won’t believe it, but I’m doing this for you…’

‘If anything, you are doing this for us.’

‘Of course, but it’s mostly for you’ it was a while since he looked at it with such a solemn seriousness. ‘I think that we both know that I can’t always be there to watch for you.’

‘And I don’t need you to’ the elleth scoffed. ‘I know how to…’

‘I know you do’ Alven interrupted her. ‘Just as I know that I can always count on you. But I don’t want to see you pushing yourself to your limits. Like when we served nilfgaardians. I don’t want to see that ever again’ his expression tightened. ‘And with Mohar, no one will dare to even look at you in the wrong way.’

‘Except for his men.’

‘Nothing we cannot deal with.’

Neve’s lips twitched. She reached out and fitted her own fingers between Alven’s.

‘Let’s say I agree to this meeting. But if I get the slightest feeling that this is going south, we are leaving.’

‘Back to the army camp?’ the elf’s lips twitched.

‘There is a lot of assholes there, but the payment’s good…’

  1.   
** “I’m with you, you know that.”**

  
Neve wasn’t one to harbor illusions. She didn’t live a life that warranted growing old and passing in peace. She accepted very early on that she was going to have a violent end – killed in a fight, stabbed to death in a dark alley, hanged for her looks or raped and choked to death… the options were truly varied.

She also realized early on that getting attached to people was a bad idea. They were just as prone to all of those risks. Betrayal was also a common thig amongst mercenaries and hired thugs.

In such cases, she preferred to be the one stabbing others in the back.

Life however, kept challenging her beliefs. Like when she met Alven. As much as she tried to tell herself it was a relationship of convenience, there were times when she clearly felt that there was much more to it.

Like when the other vrihedd elves brought him into the camp after the skirmish. At first, Neve thought he was dead. Alven was hanging limply across the saddle, his head wrapped in the bloodied cloth. Blood dripped from the horse’s side, seeping from wounds she couldn’t clearly see.

Neve didn’t really remember what she was doing, but she dropped it and ran to his side. The relief she felt when she pressed her fingers into his neck an found a pulse almost made her knees give up.

Then everything was a blur as she let her healer side take over. It was the only thing she could really do for him now. She asked two elves to take him to the infirmary, where she got right to work.

Dislocated shoulder. Cracked ribs. Three fingers broken. Busted knee. Stab wound to the chest. A slash to the thigh, fortunately missing the artery. And a blow to the head that she was afraid has cracked his skull.

She did what she could. The best she could. She didn’t do that to the regular soldiers.

And then she sat down to wait.

Hours ticked by. Neve felt exhausted and wrung but she refused to leave his side. Somehow the other healers let her be, seeing clearly what she was refusing to admit.

She felt even worse because of that.

Night settled over the camp by the time Alven stirred. Or rather, he lurched upward on the bed, his mind obviously still in the middle of the battle.

‘Hey, hey! Relax! You’re safe!’ the elleth said trying to press him back into the cot without hurting his shoulder. ‘You’re safe…’

Her words were slow to sunk in, but eventually, the elf relaxed and fell back with a groan.

‘Neve?’

‘Yes, I’m with you’ she assured, cupping his cheek, while she made sure that he didn’t hurt himself further. ‘You know that.’

‘Where are we?...’ Alven asked, squinting, as if forming the words caused him pain.

‘Army camp. You apparently bumped into some scouts when you were returning from the patrol. You were wounded. Your companions dragged you back.’

‘Did we lose?’

‘Is this really important right now?’ she couldn’t quite keep the irritation from her voice. ‘You almost died! But considering everything, there wouldn’t be anyone to bring you back have you lost…’

Alven visibly relaxed. And even if Neve found it hard to believe and the action obviously brought him further discomfort, he smiled at her.

‘Your angry concern is endearing, have I ever told you that?’

‘Well you, trying to turn everything into a flirt is definitely not’ she grumbled, while her hand ran gently down his cheek.

  1.   
** “Scared, me?”**

  
Something growled in the bushes in front of them. If she focused, Neve could even hear the monsters moving, the dry leaves and twigs snapping beneath their feet.

She wasn’t sure how many of them were there. Three? Four? It didn’t really matter. It was her first hunt. First time she was given a sword and was told to go and deal with a bunch of ghouls, because master Killian needed some fungus that only grew in this area of castle grounds.

And somehow, she was thought capable of getting it. With Milton’s assistance of course, but it didn’t mean she felt any more prepared to do that.

She only ever had to kill in self-defense. And those were humans.

Neve should have heard that someone was coming up behind her. She should have, but she was too focused on the sounds coming from behind the broken wall.

She flinched violently when a hand grabbed her shoulder. At least she didn’t gasp, alerting the creatures to their presence and rendering their sneaky approach useless.

‘Relax’ Milton’s gruff voice sounded next to her ear. ‘You heart is about to pop and there is no reason to panic.’

‘Scared, me?’ Neve sneered, trying to put up a brave front. Even if it was useless.

‘Of course you are,’ the older witcher sounded amused. ‘Everybody is on their first hunt. But at least you are not screaming and running back to the castle… otherwise I might have let them purse you.’

Neve lips twitched.

‘Thank you, I suppose. I feel safer already.’

‘Good. No one wants to murder little pups like you. They can be useful sometimes. And those are just ghouls. It doesn’t really get any easier than that. Besides, I’m with you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You will learn to appreciate that in due time’ the older witcher gave her a thin half-smile. ‘Now come on, we don’t have a whole day.’

  1. ** “Change is annoyingly difficult.”**

  
Neve was surprised when she found the baths empty. Even this early in the morning a few girls were already milling about, still half asleep, but determined to get at last a bit of privacy.

Not that she had the energy to celebrate being alone. She limped towards one of the tubs, not even trying to hide her discomfort. After all she had no witnesses.

And today, probably the only thing that didn’t hurt were her hair. The unfortunate tumble off the comb left her with way too many bruised, a twisted knee and ankle and likely a cracked rib. Or two. To be honest, at first, she felt like her hipbone has cracked in the fall. But she was able to stand up, thanks to her stubbornness rather than anything else and so she was deemed well enough to just walk it off.

Pain built character, or so they were told all the time.

Neve didn’t feel like she was building anything except for the desire to gather up her meager belongings and leave. She made it to the tub and pulled off her clothes, wincing and grumbling at the uncomfortable movements.

Water was blessedly hot, taking at least some of the tension from her body.

‘Are you well? You surely sound like you are about to keel over?’

Neve swirled towards the voice. The water sloshed against the rim of the tub.

For a moment it was hard to notice the other woman as she chose the tub standing in the furthest corner of the room. Only a mop of short, blond hair was visible above the rim of the tub.

‘Being able to count all of my bones can hardly be considered as well.’

It was Lukka. Which wasn’t half-bad because she was a member of her group. Which mean she witnessed her ungraceful fall.

The witcheress hummed, before she poured a small bucket of water over head and stood up, climbing over the rim of the tub.

‘But you are alive’ she finally pointed out, padding over to the bench where her clothing was laid out. ‘And as far as I can see’ she glanced in her direction. ‘Nothing is missing. You’ll be fine.’

‘Well I don’t feel fine…’ Neve muttered, wrapping her arms around her knees.

‘So, you are going to keep complaining?’ the older woman tossed the towel over her head and scratched vigorously. ‘Does it make you feel better? Change is annoyingly difficult. It’s painful and drags out worse than nekker’s claws from the wound.’

Neve wondered if she meant the wound she could clearly see; the scars digging deep groves into her thigh.

‘I complain because I have a few moments to myself’ she countered. ‘You don’t see me doing that in front of everyone.’

‘No, I suppose you don’t’ Lukka agreed toweling herself off. ‘And life tends to be shitty more often than not… I think I forgot that I felt the same need to vent not so long ago. But there are better ways to do it.’

Neve had no doubt that Lukka was smiling. But the sharp twist of lips was more concerning than comforting.

‘Like what?’

‘Like sampling the contents of the wine cellar. I think it’s a high time for you to join us.’


End file.
